well, i'm nothing

yeah, when writing just becomes a way to hide behind the words
and the feeling of depression comes so often it's absurd
when your only friends are couples and you just feel out of place
when the words that leave your mouth always just come out in bad tase

here's a song for the forgotten, for the getting and forgetting
yes, an anthem for the singing by the loners at the weddings
of the friends who them, betray, by finding love and moving on,
it's the saving of the poets, is the purpose of this song

i could ramble on with stories, i could drown myself with tears
at the facts of life which endlessly control my lonely years
but the point of all the sorrow and theatrics that consume (my
life), for reasons vague at best, would not be sent across to you

so here, with words that have no meanings, and that roll off of the tongue
i'd like, at last, to make it obvious to all that you have won
now, apologies are rated high for value they possess,
but so is cutting, drinking, suicide, and all that fucking mess

whether sleep or lack thereof contributes to this stupid song
i feel that i should, here, elaborate on where you've all gone wrong
you see, it's not about the friendship or the "love" which you two feel,
no it's really just about the way, alone, neither could deal

and so the purpose of relationships at last has been revealed
but you know this changes nothing; what you don't like, you don't hear
so due to memory, selective, and to audit'ry the same
the lack of purpose in reality has turned into a game.